


Desk Set

by MistyBeethoven



Category: Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV)
Genre: Alphabet, Comedy, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Files, Not Wearing Underwear, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Redheads, Secretaries, Seduction, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, sex comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: Arthur Hastings hides under Miss Lemon's desk and finds something rather interesting to do while he's under there.





	Desk Set

Arthur Hastings was in Miss Lemon's drawers, Poirot was in his office studying some letters that had come in just that morning and the secretary, herself, was out picking up something or other Hastings could not quite remember which.

Earlier on, sitting on the sofa in the Belgian detective's office, going through the latest stocks, the Captain had not been listening and so Felicity Lemon's announcement of what she had gone out for had gone entirely over his head. 

Poirot's comment afterwards, however, had not: it was the reason why Hastings was now searching through her files.

"Do you think Miss Lemon is a red head _naturelle_ or _non_, Hastings?" the detective had inquired.

"What?" Arthur had asked a repetition of the question, his mind still on the stocks.

"I was asking if you think Miss Lemon dyes her hair or not!" the little Belgian exclaimed in frustration.

The Captain closed the paper and folded it for later as he gave the matter some consideration. "I've never really given it much thought," he had said which was a lie: he had thought about it often. "Why do you ask?"

"There was a hair in the bathroom. It matched neither you, nor Japp, nor my own hair color," Poirot said slightly embarrassed.

"And you suppose it was Miss Lemon's?" Arthur hazarded a guess.

"Yes."

Since that rather odd conversation, Captain Arthur Hastings had been exceedingly curious about Felicity Lemon's natural hair color. He believed that if he could find the answer out once and for all he would have bested his boss and friend at least once, and proven himself to be a finer sleuth than Poirot realized.

The first chance he had gotten to enter the sectetary's office without the great detective's knowledge, Hastings had seized upon it. While Poirot had gone to the kitchen to sneak a chocolate from the cupboard where he had hidden them, Arthur had tip-toed into the empty office of Miss Lemon and had started searching through her vast and complicated filing system. He was searching under every word she may have possibly used to list her hairdresser's or pharmecutical company; a receipt for hair dye would be most compelling evidence to show Poirot. However, after minutes of carefully sneaking about, he still hadn't managed to find a single clue. What made matters worse was he soon heard the Belgian chocolate fancier leaving the kitchen and Miss Lemon entering the front door.

Feeling quite guilty, and with nowhere else to go, Captain Arthur Hastings hastily crawled under the redhead's desk.

"I'm back Mr. Poirot and Captain Hastings!" she announced and Arthur could hear the swoosh of fabric as she put her coat and hat away. He had been hoping that she would not go into her office immediately but his hope quickly vanished as she immediately came and sat down at her desk.

"Very good Miss Lemon," Poirot said as he peeked into the office. "Did you happen to see Hastings on your way out? I cannot find him."

The secretary shook her kiss curled head. " No, I didn't see him."

Poirot must have offered either one of his confused little nods or understanding smiles and left for Arthur heard his footfalls as he minced away.

Stuck under the desk and hearing Miss Lemon begin her typing, Captain Arthur Hastings made a rather curious and shocking discovery: the secretary was not wearing any underwear underneath her pretty green dress. He could clearly see in between her separated legs the folds of her labia. Above, in a bit of curly fluff, was a mass of brown colored pubic hair and the Captain congratulated himself on the fact that he had solved Poirot's question all on his own.

Now all he had to do was wait for Miss Lemon to venture away from her office so he could sneak out of it. It all seemed so easy.

A problem occurred, however, when Arthur Hastings found himself becoming hypnotized by the secretary's wonderful vulva. The skin looked so pale and lovely and her thighs so soft and inviting that the Captain found himself unable to resist. First his hands disappeared up her dress and grabbed each thigh and began to caress them.

"Why Captain Hastings!" the secretary exclaimed as she looked down and saw the missing man hiding under her desk. "What on earth are you doing!"

He showed her rather than told her as he pushed his face into her crotch and started to taste her.

"Oooohhhh," Miss Lemon started to moan as she squirmed in her chair. "Aaaaaahhhhhh..."

Captain Hastings started to roll his tongue all over her clit as his face was sandwiched by Felicity's right and left labia. He took her sweet bud between his thin lips and started sucking it.

"Oh Arthur!" she started to cry as the man felt his face becoming wet as the secretary's cream started to ooze out quite quickly as she became more and more aroused. Hastings discovered he quite liked the taste of the pretty little secretary.

The Captain could feel her bud becoming large and hard between his pursed lips. He backed away suddenly.

"No, no," she groaned her head thrown back in pleasure. "Don't stop!"

With no need for further convincing, Hastings placed his tongue in her crevice and licked it up from bottom to top and then put his long nose in as well and trailed it down, but not before rubbing it enthusiastically against her clit and in her vaginal opening.

Arthur plunged three of his long fingers into Miss Lemon's leaking vagina while he brought the fingers on his other hand back to her throbbing bud to squeeze and rub. She bucked a few times in her chair and Hastings felt his fingers becoming wrinkly from how wet the woman was becoming. She was moaning again and thrashing about as Poirot opened the glass divider between his office and his secretary's.

"Are you quite all right, Miss Lemon?" Hercule Poirot asked. "I thought I heard screaming."

Hastings stopped his playing with the woman's now quite red and twitching genitals to give his lover time to compose herself and fib.

"Yes!" she stated. "I'm better now. Much better. I just saw a mouse and was scared."

"You do not strike me as the type of woman who is afraid of mice," Hastings heard Poirot say.

"Well it was quite big. It may have been a rat."

The Belgian detective must have accepted this for Arthur heard the glass shut again. As soon as he was gone, Felicity grabbed Arthur's head and pushed it into her crotch once again.

Cream covering his face, the Captain's tongue found her vagina and went inside, as he felt Lemon squirm and try to keep silent. After a few licks and flicks in and out, the tongue once more found the clitoris and began to do the alphabet on it. The woman was close to climax by M and so he slowed down, resuming only after the bud had calmed down a bit. Starting up again, Felicity was delightfully pulling on his hair showing him what a jolly good job he was doing. When she was close, and already having passed Z, Arthur Hastings spelt out one last thing:

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-F-E-L-I-C-I-T-Y-L-E-M-O-N

Shortly after, she came with a jolt and a spurt.

"I love you too Arthur Hastings," she whispered breathlessly.

The Captain pulled away, noting that his face and her insides were all very slippery.

The man under the desk watched as Felicity Lemon got up and walked to the bathroom to freshen up. He crawled out from under the desk and went to the kitchen, dried off his face and splashed some water on it before returning to Hercule Poirot's office, and falling onto the couch, opened the newspaper to the last page he was on.

"So you have returned, Mon Ami!" the detective exclaimed. "Where did you go off to and what is that smell?"

"I just went and had a fish sandwich," the Captain lied but only to a certain degree. "Oh by the way old boy..." Arthur said and his friend looked at him.

"Yes?" Poirot asked.

"Miss Lemon is not a real redhead," Captain Arthur Hastings stated with a satisfied smile before hiding behind the paper, leaving Hercule Poirot extremely puzzled about how the man had found out on the other side.


End file.
